Prologue III

But they weren't exactly gone you see...

The white raven perched onto a birch tree with a view of the shore. It bent left toward a cliff's edge, yet miraculously, did not fall against the pounding of the wind. 

The raven croaked hoarsely into the morning dew. The ocean sparkled, its clear surface perfectly mirroring the sky. With the sandy coast being the only contrast to the sea of scintillating water.

As time flew by and the sun raised its amber and gold rays off of the mountains full of trees, debris of the ship flooded onto the coast. Yet, floating on the broken hull as if it were a bed, two sleeping, shivering boys glided softly onto the sandy shore. Water grazed the surface of their heels at the waves apex and, falling backwards, tried to pull them with it. Like grubby hands fighting for one last meal.

One boy was whiter than the other, his skin like pale paste on the yellowish sand. His hair was dark like a raven's feathers, and felt as such. And though his body was small and far from nourished, it wasn't bones that showed through his thin skin, but perfectly formed muscles, as if his body was forged by the divine. This was Haiden and he was older.

The other boy was a shade whiter than amber and much larger than the other, not only taller, but plumper as well. His cheeks were still round through his skin, and even though his bones were jagged and clearly visible, he was peaceful. His hair was like sheep's wool, and with the salt of the water and the sand, it matted together in knots on his small head. This was Jonathan, the younger.

The shock of the cold water on their heels lulled them to open their quiet eyes. Jonathans were green and Haiden's were icy-blue.

It was a peaceful moment quickly ruined as Haiden's eyes widened, he turned sharply to his side, "Ugh," He groaned, his cheeks puffed, and as he opened his mouth water spewed from it like the rushing of a dam. Chunks of old food and spittle formed in clumps, as sand, and sea together shot forth from his stomach. He cursed loudly in a way children shouldn't know.

He spat the throw up from his mouth, wiping his lips with his forearm, "What happened?" His eyes scanned the tree line with a deep confusion, "And where…where are we?" He wiped his tired eyes with his tiny, sand covered hands. "What am I saying?" He asked as his words were a language he didn't fully understand.

Haiden tried to think, but a sharp pain reverberated in his eye then through his skull, "Agh!" he spat. The pain sent his arm upwards to shield his eye from it, as if his palm was enough, "Jonathan-" he turned to his side. "What are you doing?" His throat felt like sandpaper as he coughed through the words.

Jonathan's eyes were stuck to the sky. The clouds were frozen in the air, but he watched as they shifted from white to gray. "It's going to rain," He replied softly. It was as if his voice wasn't his own, but he felt at peace. He was fiercely cold, but it did not bother him.

And eventually, it did rain.